The Deeper Meaning of the
Demjanjuk Verdict

Some were critical that Holocaust helper John Demjanjuk
was sentenced to just five years and then released. But the verdict
came as a profound relief to victims' families. It
also demonstrates that the German justice system has changed
-- for the better.

[W.Z.
There is, indeed, a "Deeper Meaning of the Demjanjuk Verdict", but it
is not that presented by Der Spiegel and Gisela Friedrichsen, who
consistently parrot the line of the Holocaust Industry. And, indeed,
the American and German justice systems have changed -- for the
worse. They have demonstrated that it is relatively easy to find people
like Allan Ryan Jr., Neal Sher, Norman Moscowitz and the rest of the
OSI cabal to perpetrate fraud on the court of judges like Frank
Battisti in the United States and Ralph Alt, Thomas Walther and their
ilk in Germany. The Holocaust Industry scoured the ends of the earth to
find "victim's families" willing to prostitute themselves in Germany.]

The purpose of a criminal trial can also be that it takes
place in the first place and ends with a convincing verdict. Were this
the 1960s and 70s, John (Ivan) Demjanjuk would have either never been
put in the dock, despite the more conclusive evidence that could have
been presented at the time, or the proceedings would have been
discontinued with the stereotypical remarks that the defendant was
merely a cog in the Nazis' killing machine -- or that he never dared to
refuse orders or flee out of fear for his life.

But the German justice system has changed. Today's judges
don't
automatically exonerate a man like Demjanjuk who, according to the
prosecution, became a "foreign helper" for the Nazis after he was
captured as a Ukrainian prisoner of war in 1942. The justices don't see
him as a trained SS guard dog who was only following his natural
instinct to survive when he drove Jews into the gas chambers of the
Sobibor extermination camp, but rather as an individual who had the
freedom to choose between good and evil -- a quality that
differentiates man from animals. "It was clear what happened," Chief
Justice Ralph Alt said in his explanation of the verdict.

This new approach by the justice system comes as a relief.
When a number of the now-gray-haired children and siblings of the
thousands of people who were murdered in Sobibor gathered in an area
designated as the "Demjanjuk collection zone" in front of the Munich
regional court on Nov. 30, 2009, their faces were marked by a life in
which they had sought justice in vain.

Easing the Anxiety

They were put up in a hotel in Dachauer Strasse. Dachau, yes,
was also the site of a concentration camp. In the courtroom they had to
furnish proof of their right to appear as co-plaintiffs, which they
dutifully did. They showed the only photograph that they still had of
their mother, or a tattered birth certificate or some other document
that proved that they were individuals whose roots had been eradicated
by the Germans.

If just one of the outcomes of the Demjanjuk trial had been
that it eased the deep-seated anxiety of these people, then it would
have fulfilled its purpose. Right up until the beginning of the trial,
some of the survivors had refused to set foot on German soil. Some had
for decades refused to buy German products or fly with Lufthansa. They
could not bear to hear Beethoven's Ninth Symphony conducted by Wilhelm
Furtwängler or listen to a Wagner opera. This unresolved and unfinished
chapter weighed heavily on their minds.

When the main courtroom at Munich's criminal justice center on
Nymphenburger Strasse was unavailable as the prosecution's case was
drawing to a close, and the Demjanjuk trial had to be transferred to a
smaller venue, the main proceedings were held in the old Palace of
Justice on Stachus square -- the building where Nazi resistance
activists Sophie and Hans Scholl and others were sentenced to death by
the Nazis in 1943. The co-plaintiffs felt that it was an honor to be
able to present their arguments there.

Last Thursday, they entered the courtroom wearing relieved
smiles. They embraced each other -- not because revenge is sweet, but
because they now feel like they are part of a big family, a community,
as one of them said, in which they have rediscovered their inner sense
of freedom. Now they can put the past behind them.

Outside Prison Walls

They shook the hands of German journalists and warmly thanked
justice officials who had attentively looked after them. One of the
co-plaintiffs recounted how he is now able to hold his head up high as
he walks through the city. An elderly woman has been to a museum and
attended an opera. Another woman intends to return and perhaps take
part in follow-up trials. She has found her identity, she says, because
the Munich court has worked so painstakingly to clear up the
circumstances surrounding the murder of her parents.

The importance of the Demjanjuk trial would only be inadequately
described, however, if it were confined to the impact that it had on
the families of the victims of Sobibor. It also has a historical
dimension. Indeed, it represents a turning point.

The approach pursued by former district court judge Thomas
Walther, who could be called the guiding spirit of this trial, has
brought clarity to many a legal specialist befogged by force of habit.
It is not a new realization that the crime of the millennium was not
only perpetrated by Hitler and Göring and a handful of people who
committed excessively cruel acts. The unfathomable atrocities of the
Holocaust required countless willing helpers who were also guilty of
committing crimes. Instead of putting these hundreds of thousands of
individuals behind bars, it was perhaps decided merely to forget them
-- just as so many other things were forgotten. All that has come to an
end now.

Unlike the tabloid media, which remains blithely ignorant of
legal matters, the co-plaintiffs were not bothered by the five-year
prison sentence, or the fact that the 91-year-old stateless defendant
was freed despite the sentence. They know that he will have to bear the
burden of his guilt for the rest of his life, whether he is behind bars
or outside prison walls.